“I see no alternatives,” I admitted, looking over to Cirian, whose dark eyes stared into the space beyond Bastien and me. I could only imagine what must be going through his mind. Sancha was precious to him, and this must have been the first time he’d ever imagined that she could actually be in danger.
“Are you ready?” I asked, making all attempts to keep my tone gentle.
He blinked, his hazy gaze falling back on me before he nodded.
“Lead the way.”
The halls of the Cradle seemed to have no end. Even as we descended a dozen staircases and navigated infinite halls of grey stone, there was always another corridor waiting for us. Cirian moved with great purpose, his pace slowed by neither obstacle nor fatigue. Fear radiated from him, thick enough that it struck my nose. He was terrified. And I couldn’t blame him.
Bastien scribbled furiously as we went, muttering under his breath and constantly tripping over his own feet. I stayed close to him, catching him with each stumble and managing the direction of his gait.
“What has captured your attention?” I asked after the third save.
“A theory,” he answered without looking up. “If we’re able to remove the Umbral once again, then we’ll have to devise a way to trap it before it can move to another host. I know of a few spells that Reviled have used to hold the essence of those who passed until their bodies can be repaired. Pulls them right from the Ether and binds them to an object. It doesn’t last for long, maybe a few days at most, but my theory is that I can tweak the spellwork to contain the Umbral so it can’t leap into another vessel.”
“Gods bless your brilliant mind,” I replied, a hand on the small of his back as I guided him around another turn, spurring him on to keep pace with Cirian.
“Of course, I don’t have any of these components,” Bastien continued. “Nor an item to serve as the temporary vessel, but it’s at least something.”
“It’s more than we had prior,” I encouraged him. “Keep at it.”
“We’re almost there,” Cirian called back to us, his breathing labored.
The ground beneath our feet thrummed, vibrating like the wings of an insect.
“That can’t be a good sign,” I proposed as we rounded another corner, taking the descending stone stairs two at a time.
“It’s trying to commune,” Cirian answered, breaking into a full sprint as we crested the bottom stairs.
Bastien and I followed suit, only to come skidding to a stop by the crumpled wreckage of what used to be ornately carved bronze doors. Peering through the opening, the sight was familiar—a room of white stone from ceiling to floor, and a looming crystalline structure waiting on the opposite end of the room.
“It’s just like the room under El Shaddith,” Bastien breathed, the three of us hovering by the edge of the opening, not wanting to be spotted.
“She’s there,” Cirian whispered, his gaze locked on the figure kneeling before the large crystal.
I scanned the rest of the room, catching no glimpse of any other movement. “She’s alone,” I announced.
“I’m going to get her?—”
Bastien caught Cirian by the collar, dragging him back into obscurity.
“We need to join our tethers before we try anything. If Sancha isn’t in control of her faculties, she could wipe us from the Expanse without a second thought.”
A flicker of light from the towering crystalline structure seemed to only intensify Cirian’s desperation. “Fine. But hurry. Please.”
Cirian and Bastien both closed their eyes, Bastien’s hand migrating from the collar over to the redhead’s shoulder.
I took a steadying breath, reaching down into the core of myself and tapping into the magic that waited there, wanting access at my fingertips. Another flash of light from within the chamber, and the foundation of the Cradle quaked.
“We need to stop her,” Cirian complained.
“I can’t concentrate if you’re speaking,” Bastien replied.
“Then hurry!” Cirian sniped.
“Your tether hasn’t materialized either,” Bastien pointed out.
“You keep distracting me!”
